


More Than a Child

by deanandsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Light Angst, Weechesters, sam and dean - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 06:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5237198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanandsam/pseuds/deanandsam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John  loves his kids in his own way but he's frequently off on one of his solo hunts. This time he leaves a nine year old Dean to look after his baby brother.<br/>Dean does his best and vows he'll always put Sammy first even if it seems John doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than a Child

John passed a callused hand over the smooth velvety skin of the woman who was moaning softly under his skillful caresses.

He was a passionate man who'd been madly in love with his wife. 

Since her death he'd taken his pleasure where and when he could, with women who found his dark good looks dangerously attractive and wanted a night of casual sex with no strings attached.  
But even if they'd wanted more, John never stayed around long enough to consider it, nor would he ever do so, not unless he found HIS Mary alive, as whole and beautiful as she'd been before her tragic death.

The grotesque way she'd been killed had turned that love into an obsession for revenge, until all John could envisage was the ultimate vendetta against the one who'd burned her alive on the ceiling and hurled him into this life of hunting.

He and Mary had generated two wonderful children but his thirst for vengeance was so strong and fueled, that although he loved them dearly, sometimes their well-being faded into second place, obscured by his pulsating need for payback.

 

John emptied his mind, letting his lust play out on the pretty woman who lay beneath him.  
Though tomorrow her face would have fled his memory as if she'd never existed, he was a man who enjoyed giving pleasure as well as receiving it, and as he always did with anything he set his mind to, he'd bring this to a satisfying conclusion for himself and his 'prey', and so he applied himself to the sex as he would to killing the monster of the day.

He was so caught up in the throes of passion that he almost forgot to take his normal precautions. With two kids to look after, he didn't need any more complications.  
But fate has a way of intervening and this was the designated night for the third player in the future Winchester drama to be brought into existence. His birth would complete the circle that would condemn one of his sons to eternal torment in the Cage and the other to a nightmare-ridden life without his little brother.

While John bucked in the apex of orgasm, the two children whose young lives lay in his hands were living a passion of their own but unfortunately not in the same pleasurable way their father was.

 

 

Dean pulled his brother along the street; the younger child was tired from the long trek through the town that Dean had taken him on.

Five year old Sammy had already begun to assert his independence, usually turning his nose up at having to hold hands with his sibling but as his weary little legs had begun to tire, a small grubby hand had crept into his big brother's, seeking the comfort and 'home' that Dean meant to him.

Dean took it more than willingly, and in this case without the brotherly snark he'd have voiced on other occasions.

 

He sighed; he knew Sammy was exhausted, but that had been his intent when he'd dragged the kid on a never-ending hike around town.

Dad had told him to stay inside the motel room until he returned, but there was only a certain amount of time you could keep an energetic five-year old cooped up in a boring motel room, and so Dean, not for the first time, had gone against John's orders and taken his little brother first to the park and then on this walk.

There was an underlying reason to it though.  
John as often happened, was late in getting back, his 'couple of days' had lengthened into a week and the supplies and money he'd left them were finished.

Dean fingered the last dollar bill in his pocket. He'd been at his wit's end and he'd hoped that tiring out Sammy would mean his little brother would fall into bed when they got back to the motel, forgetting about any hunger pangs.

Hopefully dad would turn up tomorrow morning and Sammy would get to stuff himself with his favourite foods.

 

"Dean, are we nearly home, I'm tired, I can't walk any more," Sammy piped up in a slurred voice, a sure sign that he was near falling asleep on his feet.

"Hang in there, Sammy! We're almost back. You can have the biggest sleep of your life," Dean answered, trying to keep his voice light, though his heart bled for his brother's plight.

They passed the last food store before the motel and Dean felt a wave of anger wash over him. He loved his dad, revered him as he would a hero in a comic book, but he loved Sammy more and hated having to think up excuses for John's extended absences and late arrivals.

He knew his dad loved them but it seemed that his father's mind was always more occupied with killing monsters than with him and Sam.

Dean had only hazy memories of 'before' when his mom was still alive and he'd had his own room filled with toys and stuff that would have made any child's life happy, but as he looked down at his little brother, he felt the tears filling his eyes at the thought that Sammy had never gotten even that, nor ever would.

Sam had nothing, only the occasional comic book and a worn puppy-dog soft toy of Dean's that had been forgotten in the Impala the night the fire had changed their lives forever.

 

He felt his brother's legs giving out as the hand holding his lost its grip, and he bent down to lift him over his shoulder as he'd done so many times before.

It was getting harder now. The child was growing and Dean was no more than a skinny kid himself, but as he pushed open the motel room door, the sleeping Sammy limp in his arms, he swore that no matter how big Sammy got, he'd always be there to hold onto his little brother and throw him over his shoulder whenever Sam needed him to.

He lay the little boy down on the bed, slipped off his worn sneakers and covered him up.

Dropping down onto the other bed, he watched the comforting rise and fall of the child's chest. If dad didn't show up tomorrow, Dean knew he'd be forced to steal. He wasn't going to let Sam go hungry another day.

 

When John came quietly into the room a few hours later, he found his eldest seated on the bed waiting.

"Something wrong with Sam, Dean?" he asked in a gruff whisper.

"No dad," was the curt reply."You told me to look out for Sammy and that's what I'm doing."

He looked John straight in the eye with a stare that had nothing of an nine-year old child. "Someone has to," he added coldly before turning his back on his father and laying down to sleep.

 

The End


End file.
